


Forget Voicemail

by blueabsinthe



Category: Law & Order, Law & Order: Los Angeles
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueabsinthe/pseuds/blueabsinthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's seven o'clock in LA ... is it ten o'clock in New York?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget Voicemail

**Author's Note:**

> kckit_827 on Livejournal asked for phone sex between Mike and Connie. I was more than happy to oblige ;)

Connie sighed, and kicked her shoes off, before she all but collapsed on her couch. She was exhausted, and did not relish the thought of having to get up to get dinner. 

She heard her phone buzz and she fumbled around before finally locating her phone. After glancing at the caller ID and realizing who it was, she smiled and picked up.

"Mike?"

"You at home?"

She leaned back against the couch cushions, and raised her legs to the coffee table. "Just got in. I'm exhausted."

"I know the feeling."

Connie glanced at her watch, and let out a sigh. "I can imagine. It's what … nearly ten o'clock in New York?"

She heard the sounds of traffic in the background, and frowned slightly. "Are you driving home now?"

Mike chuckled. "Handsfree, Connie. I promise."

She smiled at his tone. Mike knew how much she hated drivers who talked on their cell phones while driving. Even from all the distance separating them, she found it rather endearing. "I'm coming home soon."

"Are you now?"

Connie nodded, despite knowing Mike couldn't see her do so. "It's not working out here, Mike."

"Good." Mike paused slightly, before he was back on the line. "Your office is still the same as you left it."

She switched her phone to the other ear. "We won't have to keep doing what we … well, y'know what I'm taking about."

"Indeed I do." Mike's voice went slightly lower then. "You still in your suit?"

"Yes. Guess which one it is."

"Mm … the grey pinstriped one? I love that one on you. The way it hugs your curves, and shows off your legs. God I miss your legs, Connie."

"I miss your hands on me when you undo the zipper on my skirt," Connie returned hotly. 

Mike was quiet on the line for a few moments. Connie thought their connection may be lost, but then she heard the sound of his car door being shut. "Home already?"

"Traffic was light."

Connie scoffed. "Traffic light in New York? What dream world are you living in, Mike?"

"A world in which you were waiting for me at home already." 

"Mm … am I naked?"

"Well you have a silk slip on. Your hair mussed up, and your eyes hungry for me to kiss you."

"I like the way you talk, Mike Cutter."

"There's more where that came from, Connie."

Connie bit her bottom lip, and ran a hand down her chest, feeling as her touch set her flesh on fire. Mike's words helping her temperature skyrocket. She had just started undoing the buttons on her blouse when she heard her doorbell ring. Connie let out an exasperated sigh, and pulled herself to her feet.

"Someone's at the door," she grumbled. "Give me a minute to tell them off."

Mike was silent, and Connie made her way angrily to the door. She practically yanked the door off its hinges, forgoing even bothering to see who it was before she opened it. Connie nearly dropped her phone as she saw who was on the other side of the door. 

Light hair, piercing blue eyes, a rumbled suit, and a tired expression. He clicked his cell phone shut. "You still want to tell me off?"

"I'll let you know in a minute." 

Breathlessly, she grabbed Mike's tie and yanked him inside her apartment.


End file.
